


Broken Hearts

by fandomscolliding



Category: Batman (Comics), Red Robin (Comics), Superboy (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Timkon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-13
Updated: 2013-06-13
Packaged: 2017-12-14 20:15:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomscolliding/pseuds/fandomscolliding
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Do you know what hurts most about a broken heart? Not being able to remember how you felt before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Hearts

Do you know what hurts most about a broken heart? Not being able to remember how you felt before. It’s the way all the days of your life blend together, tinted in the brightness of his smile, drowning in the blue of his eyes.

It’s the way you can’t remember a day passing when you didn’t love him, even when he wasn’t yours to love.

You can remember first meeting him, Batman’s hand on his shoulder, a mask covering your eyes which, inexorably, search his face as if you’re memorizing each plane and curve, committing to memory his coal black lashes and petulant lips.

You can even remember when he loved Cassie, the opposite of you in every way—all sunlight and smile and brazen words. You can remember the cool sting of jealousy as they kissed.

But you also know what it feels like to have him love you. God, some days it feels as though it’s the only thing you’ve ever felt, the only secret you’ve ever known or ever needed to know. In your life of capes flashing in the darkness and whispers in the night, he was your sun and moon and stars in one. He was the light at the end of the tunnel, and sometimes he was the only thing that kept you fighting and brought you home.

Yet now he is gone, and you are trying to pick up the shards of your heart and piece them back together, but the fragments keep cutting your hands and, slick with blood, they fall like tears from your fingers, shattering into infinitesimally smaller slivers as they hit the ground.

And it’s not like last time when he went from living in this world to dying in the next. Because, you see, he didn’t choose then, he didn’t leave. He was taken, and he fought his way back to you. Now, though, now he was gone, slipping like smoke through your grasp, residing now on the other side of an abyss as deep and dark as your days together were bright and long, a gulf that you know you can never cross and a distance that you know he will never cross either. 

The worst part of having a broken heart is not knowing how to move on when all you want is for things to go back to the way they were. It’s your entire soul aching when you see him again because there are no more smiles and hands brushing like a promise against yours. Instead it’s cold pleasantries and broken sadness reflected back into your eyes. Because he’s no longer your sun and moon and stars in one. Instead he’s nothing but the memory of light and warmth and hope that grows ever fainter. He’s the light at the end of an infinitely long tunnel, and the space at the end of the sofa and the extra set of cutlery and the cold wind at your back where he used to fight and live and breath and love beside you.

What hurts most about a broken heart is never again being able to remember how it was to not have them in your heart, and wondering how it could be so easy for them to cast you from theirs.


End file.
